What Are We Then?
by RunForCoverr
Summary: Pete doesn't know where his life is heading, especially with his friend Michael. Are the goths really meant to be friends forever?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Okay, so I haven't written in such a long time. I still have stories I haven't finished yet, but I wanted to have a go at a different type of writing style. I hope it doesn't completely suck. I know that when I write, the first chapter or first couple of chapters, aren't as great as the rest. I sort of have to get into a flow. I hope you enjoy it though!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own South Park. All rights belong to Matt Stone and Trey Parker.**

* * *

What Are We Then?

High school will always be a building of horror. Any outcast or freak could tell you that. It's a building of oppression and cruelty. The sad thing is, not always by the students. High school just sucks, and the only people who enjoy going are the popular kids.

Nothing really had changed for the Goth Kids who sat behind South Park Elementary School. They had matured though, they weren't so much 'downers' anymore, and they tried a little harder in school, just so they didn't fuck up their entire lives.

Due to such an age gap, Firkle was still stuck in Middle School, alone. They hated it, but the senseless school system liked to fuck around. Students change to so many different schools, that it's no wonder they're all falling behind.

It was just after lunch and Michael and Henrietta were sitting behind the High School gym, smoking. That hadn't changed; they just didn't skip so often.

"Where the fuck is Pete?"

Michael shrugged at Henrietta's question. "Who knows?"

She frowned, "You're his boyfriend."

Michael rolled his eyes, "No, I'm not, and even I were his "boyfriend"," he quoted with his fingers, cigarette in one hand. "I wouldn't need to know where he is every second of my life, that Henrietta is a dictatorial personality."

"True", Henrietta said, exhaling nicotine smoke slowly, "It's almost borderline abusive."

Michael shook his head, "No, it IS, abusive. It's psychological abuse, controlling your partners' life like a frigging dictator.

Henrietta pulled out her notebook. "Why is it we always talk about this shit?"

Michael shrugged and inhaled his cigarette deeply. "Boredom."

"True."

Pete walked over slowly, sluggish, and dropped his shoulder bag on the ground. "Hey."

Michael frowned, "You look like shit."

Pete rolled his eyes, "Thank you Michael, you've always been so straightforward and sincere."

Henrietta chuckled, "Oh Michael, our little unfeigned idiot."

Michael smirked and gave her the finger, in which Henrietta replied back with the same gesture.

Pete was too distracted and leant against the back of the gym and groaned.

"So what the hell's wrong?" Henrietta asked, frowning. "You were fine this morning."

"I ate lunch at the cafeteria."

"Oh shit"! Henrietta joked, "You're fucked then!"

Pete faked a sarcastic laugh and shook his head. "No, they had mac n cheese."

Michael slid across next to Pete, and threw an arm around his shoulder. "Why the fuck would you eat that? You're lactose intolerant!"

"No shit, captain obvious, I'm aware of my debilitating condition." Pete held his stomach and groaned again. "I was flippin hungry! We've had no money for food and I was desperate to eat something."

Michael sighed. "Why didn't you say something? We would of given you money or shared our lunch".

"Because I don't beg, Michael."

Henrietta rolled her eyes at Pete's idiocy. "We're your friends, dumb ass."

Michael agreed, "She's right, and now you're going to be really sick for the rest of the day."

Pete held his stomach and let his head drop softly on to Michaels shoulder. Henrietta smirked, "Not dating, huh?"

In frustration, Michael sighed, "Shut up Henrietta! We're not dating."

"Whatever, you guys fuck, so that's close enough."

"Ah, Jesus Christ guys, shut the hell up!" Pete was trying to ignore the nausea that made him feel like his whole digestive system was trying to explode out of his mouth.

Michael stood up, and pulled Pete up with him, "I'll drive you back to my place. You can't stay at school like this."

Just standing up was agonising for Pete, and he tried to breathe through the pain. They walked slowly to the school parking lot, Henrietta saying her goodbyes, complaining about some compulsory test she had to go do, and Michael drove Pete and himself out of the school grounds.

Pete looked awful, his skin was paler than usual, and he couldn't hold his head up without feeling lightheaded from the nausea.

"If you feel like you're going to be sick, there's a plastic bag in the glove compartment." Michael gestured to it with his head, watching the road.

Of course it was snowing in South Park, and because of that, there weren't many on the road, especially at this time of the day, but Michael was cautious.

Pete pulled the plastic bag out of the glove compartment and groaned. "I don't particularly want to puke in front of you, I assume it would be a huge turn off."

Michael smirked slightly, still watching the road. "I've seen you puke before."

"Yeah, but not since we started having sex!"

Michael chuckled at himself. Ever since him and Pete started sleeping together, he had noticed that Pete got a lot more self-conscious around him. He'd try a bit harder to look nice every morning; he'd get embarrassed at things that he usually wouldn't get embarrassed about. It was clear to Michael that Pete had feelings for him, he wasn't oblivious to that, but he was never sure about relationships; too much work.

Pete closed his eyes, trying to ignore the moving car. It had felt like all his senses had turned on at once, and were set to overload. His stomach was not happy with him and he could feel the contents of his stomach making its way up. Pete tried to breathe through it, but he knew it wasn't going to let him fight. "Oh fuck."

He leant into the bag and allowed the heinous mac n cheese to come back up. It was violent too, as it always was when it came to his lactose intolerance. He groaned as it kept coming, trying to ignore the obvious fact that Michael was next to him.

Michael pulled over, hoping that if he stopped moving, Petes' stomach might calm down. He rubbed his back gently, pulling his hair back out of Petes face.

"You okay?"

His voice was so soft, and sincere; almost calming, and Pete focused on how Michael rubbed his back. It was so comforting, and he was grateful that he had held his hair back too. He closed his eyes, taking deep breaths, just taking in the calmness of the car. Pete had worried about it being embarrassing, or awkward, but it wasn't. It was, nice.

"I-I'm okay, for now. Th-thanks."

Michael smiled slightly. "Just throw the bag in the bush, who cares."

Pete chuckled softly and did, trying not to think about animals finding it a glorious feast later on.

It didn't take long for them to reach Michaels house. They made their way up to Michael's bedroom and closed the door.

"Just, lay down in my bed, it's fine."

Pete hesitantly lay down; he'd never really been in Michael's bed, except for when they had sex, and even then it was usually so desperate that they kind of just fell on top of the blankets.

"Can-Can I get into the covers?"

Michael removed his jacket and raised an eyebrow at Pete. "Yes? Why wouldn't I let you?"

"Well, I've never really, been in bed with you here. Only ever at Hens".

Michael tilted his head in thought and played with his ring on his finger, something he often did when he thought about something, or tried to remember something. "Yeah, I guess you haven't," he smiled, "But it's just a bed, Pete."

Pete got under the covers and tried to hide a smile. It smelt just like Michael, and he felt completely comforted by every piece of fabric on the bed.

Michael removed his shoes and sat at this desk, turning his chair to face Pete. "Do you need a bucket or something?"

Pete bit his lip; he really didn't want to be an inconvenience, "I guess, just in case. Hopefully I'll be fine though."

Michael left the room and returned rather quickly with one and placed it beside the bed.

"Just rest, I'll get started on his history paper."

Pete softly smiled as Michael turned to face his computer, and cuddled deep into the blankets. It didn't take long for him to drift off to sleep.

* * *

Pete awoke to darkness, except for the shine of a computer screen in the corner of the room. Michael was sitting at the desk, typing quietly, completely focused on whatever it is he was doing.

Pete sat up slowly, feeling a lot better than before and smiled over at him. Michael was always good looking to Pete, even if Michael didn't see it for himself. His curls hung down just right, slightly over his face, but enough to see his piercing blue eyes. He was skinny, pale, and always smelt of vanilla mixed with coffee and tobacco. Michael was always great with his fashion choices too, everything he wore- he wore well, and it made Pete gush over him like a preppy cheerleader in love with the quarterback. Pete hated that he let himself fall in love, especially to Michael. Michael was an incredible human being, but he lacked a lot of emotion. He was withdrawn from that sort of thing and Pete knew it was fruitless trying to become anything more than a fuck buddy.

"Sleep well"?

Pete jumped at Michaels voice. His eyes were still focused on the screen, but he must of been able to see Pete through the corner of his eyes.

"Y-Yeah, thanks." Pete looked around the room and then out the window to the darkened street. "What the hell is the time?

Michaels eyes wandered to the top of this computer screen for only a second. "Seven Thirty."

"Jesus!" Pete stood up and ran towards Michael to see for himself. "Why didn't you wake me?"

Michael typed 'Ctrl S' to save, and twirled around on his chair to face Pete. "You looked comfortable, and you were pretty sound."

Pete fought back a smile and cleared his throat. "Uh, get much done then?"

"Yeah, loads actually. You being sick really saved me from my not so productive social life." Michael smirked and Pete let out a small laugh. "You hungry? You threw up whatever you had in your stomach, so I'm guessing you are."

Michael stood up and wrapped his jacket around him. "Village Inn?"

Pete nodded his head and quickly put his shoes and coat on. He followed Michael down the stairs and out the front door, greeted by the numbing night air.

"Fuck, you'd think I'd get used to this after all these years of living here!" Pete cuddled himself as they got into Michaels car, and Michael immediately put the heater on. "You'd think so, but no," Michael replied.

They drove the short drive to Village Inn and hurried into the warmth of the diner. They took their usual booth and were greeted by the ignorant and intrusive waitress who had been bothering them for the past nine years.

"What do you kids want?" she asked in a disinterested tone, "let me guess, coffee"?

Michael rolled his eyes, "Oh it's lovely to see you again Irene, lower down the sarcasm and we might just behave."

Pete snickered under his breath and focused on the menu in front of him.

"Can it kid, order something, or shove off."

Michael sighed and picked up his menu, scanning it.

"I'll have the Golden-Fried Shrimp." He looked up at Pete, "What do you want?"

Pete shrugged, "I don't really have any money. I'll just get some fries."

Michael sighed. "Pay no attention to him, he'll have the All-World Double Cheeseburger, minus the cheese."

Pete frowned at Michael, "I'll pay, Pete, it's fine."

The waitress sighed, "And what do you want as your sides?"

"Fries," Michael replied handing her back the menus.

"Right, will be with you soon," She began to walk away when Michael called out to her, "Don't forget our coffee of course."

Pete laughed as the waitress glared and walked away mumbling to herself about 'disrespectful kids these days'.

"She's such a narcissistic, oppressive, bitch!" Michael said, shaking his head at Pete with a slight smile.

"Yeah," Pete agreed, "And we're the goths."

Michael laughed, joined in by Pete as the waitress came back with their coffee.

"Thank you Irene," Michael said as politely as he could.

"Whatever," she replied, walking off.

"I tried," he shrugged.

Pete smirked as he took his first sip of coffee. "Thanks for buying me dinner, Michael."

"It's fine, is your Mom having trouble finding work again?"

Pete put down his mug and sighed. He played with the salt and pepper shakers in front of him, too ashamed to make eye contact with Michael. "Yeah, she is. I'm trying really hard to find a job but no one wants to hire a trailer trash."

"You're not trash, Pete," Michael frowned, "I hate it when you call yourself that."

Pete shrugged, "They think I am. Every place I've been to have rejected my application, even the gas station."

Michael watched Pete, studying him. He could see how depressed this was making him and he couldn't stand to see Pete so miserable. "Has your Mom applied for food stamps?"

"No," Pete rolled the salt backwards and forwards on its side, "she's too proud, I guess."

Michael frowned, "So she'd rather let you go without food?"

Pete looked up at him briefly and then back at the salt, "I guess," he shrugged.

The waitress came back with their food and placed it down for them. "Enjoy," she said sarcastically.

Pete looked at his meal and smiled, taking in the scent. He hadn't eaten a decent meal in weeks and when he took his first bite of a french fry it was heavenly.

Michael watched, taking bites himself, "Maybe I can get you a job at sizzler with me?"

Pete looked up and tilted his head to the side, "Really? You could do that?"

Michael shrugged, "I can try," he took a bite of another french fry, "We don't need any more waiters, but we do need help in the back."

"Doing what?" Pete asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Oh, you know, washing, stocking, that kinda thing. It's not much, but it's money." Michael took a bite of his shrimp and smiled softly.

"Yeah, I'd take whatever I can get."

Michael nodded his head, "I'll talk to my manager, but I can't promise anything."

Pete smiled and picked up his burger, "I know, I'm just grateful that you're offering to help."

* * *

They finished their meals, Pete leaving nothing on his plate, as they sat drinking their coffee. Michael had his notebook out and was writing, while Pete just sat twirling his finger around the rim of his mug.

"Michael?"

Michael looked up from his notebook, "Yeah?"

"Do you ever think about the future?"

Michael closed his book and raised an eyebrow, "Like, career wise? Or?"

"No, just, the future." Pete looked down and played with his lip ring with his tongue. "Just, where we'll be, who'll we'll become, that kinda shit."

"Well.." Michael sighed and rested his chin on his hand, "I guess, sometimes."

Pete looked up and bit his lip, "Do you ever think about relationships?"

Michael frowned and blew his fringe out of his face, "Like, dating?"

Pete nodded and looked down at his mug, starting to regret starting this conversation.

"Well, not really. You know how I feel about that shit." Michael picked up his coffee, taking a sip but still keeping his eyes locked on Pete.

"So, you just gonna fuck who ever you feel like fucking, and thats it?" Pete didn't mean to sound snappy, he hadn't planned to say it in that tone.

Michael sighed and put his mug down. "Pete, if us having sex is upsetting you, we can stop."

Pete frowned, "It's not upsetting me, it's just," he tapped his finger on the rim of his mug and bit his lip again, "Will we be, like this, in ten years? Twenty? Just fucking every couple of days, throwing our clothes back on and then off we go back home?"

Michael slumped back into the booth and raised an arm to rest on the back of the seat, "I don't know, I've never thought that far ahead."

Pete sighed, "Look, don't worry about it, I'm just so confused about my life right now. I don't know where it's going, or who's going to be in it." He looked as if he was going to cry, but held back.

Michael sat forward and frowned, "Woah, you think I won't be in your life? You think all of us are going to just fuck off and never talk again?"

Pete shrugged.

"Well, Pete, I'm not going to do that. Whether we fuck, or not, I'm going to always be around. And I think that goes for Firkle and Henrietta too."

Pete shook, taking deep breaths, trying not to break down, "I'm just scared," He looked up at Michael, tears filling his eyes, threatening to fall, "I don't know if it's worth going on half the time."

Michaels eyes widened and he sat up straight, "Don't talk like that! You're going to go somewhere, Pete. I'll be right there with you too."

Pete nodded his head and forced a smile, "I know, I'm sorry, Michael."

Michael watched Petes eyes and chewed on his thumb nail, something he often did when he was anxious or concerned, "Why don't we go? You can stay at my house tonight."

Pete smiled slightly, "yeah, alright."

They both stood up, Michael leaving money on the table and he drove them home.

* * *

 **A/N Alright, that's the first chapter. Sorry if it wasn't written well. I'm terrible with punctuation, but I'm trying to figure it all out. I'm still so shocked I passed high school.**

 **Please let me know what you think of this story, I love reviews, they keep me motivated.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hey, so here's the second chapter. I have noticed this story isn't showing up in the South Park archive, so, I hope it's just me and people are actually seeing this, heh.**

 **WARNING: This chapter has some sexual content that wouldn't be suitable for people under 15. Then again, if you watch South Park, and you're under 15, you've probably already been corrupted.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own South Park. Matt Stone and Trey Parker do.**

* * *

The sun made it's first appearance at eight thirty the next morning, typical for winter in Colorado. Snow was falling heavily on the town, which made everyone want to stay in bed. It didn't matter, it was a Saturday anyway.

Pete woke up to find the room still dark; many thanks to Michaels black out curtains, but he could see the glimpse of light from the cracks of the bedroom door. He shivered and wrapped the blanket tightly around him as he reached for his phone. Michael was still sound asleep next to him, and Pete glanced over and smiled at his chest slowly rising and falling.

When Petes' eyes finally adjusted, he was able to make out a text from Henrietta.

 _-"Hey fag, how you feelin?"_

Pete chuckled softly at the text, it was always so typical for Henrietta to show her compassion with a mild insult.

 _-"I'm fine bitch, I got to Michaels and slept until 7 or something, then we went to Village Inn for dinner."_

 _-"Like a date?"_

Pete looked over at Michael and smiled sadly.

- _"I wish! Nuh, just dinner."_

It never took long for Henrietta to text back.

 _-"Did he pay?"_

 _-"Yes?"_

 _-"Date."_

Pete rolled his eyes and sat up, leaning against Michaels headboard.

 _"Hen, no. It's never gonna happen between him and I."_

 _-"You never know Petey. Gtg, cya!"_

He sighed and put his phone on the side table beside him, and rubbed his eyes. "Fuck..."

Michael stirred; groaning, and stretched his arms. "What? Did you say something?"

"Shit!" Pete turned his head quickly to face him, "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you!"

Michael shrugged and sat up, leaning against the headboard like Pete. "It's fine, whatever."

Michael looked a complete mess. His eyeliner was smudged around his eyes, making the blue in them pop, and his hair was a nest. He totally killed the look though, and he in no way looked unattractive.

"How the fuck do you do it, Michael?" Pete sighed and leant his head back to face the ceiling.

Michael sleepily turned his head to face Pete, "Do what?"

"You know, look good **ALL** the **TIME** ," he threw him arms up in exaggeration, "If you're sick, tired, high, drunk, or whatever! You're always hot," Pete sighed, "It's so unfair."

Michael chuckled, "Thanks, but I'm not."

Pete looked over at Michael, who was staring in front of him at his Bauhaus poster.

"You know, you really put yourself down too much."

Michael smirked slightly and shrugged, "I just don't find myself attractive," he continued staring at the poster, "Doesn't matter though. I'm not allowing myself to feel the need to self loath and oppress myself, just because society thinks people should look a certain way."

Pete scoffed, "Yeah, way to go society. You've succeeded to kill thousands of despondent human beings, due to your need to all be the same."

Michael sighed, "Suicide it getting too fucking frequent."

"It's depressing."

* * *

Pete and Michael sat in silence for a while, the only sounds were the birds outside and the occasional car driving past.

It was getting colder and Pete cuddled back down into the bed and groaned. "Does your dad ever turn the heat up to a normal fucking temperature? Does he not realize that he's possibly sending us into hypothermia?"

Michael chuckled, "You're so frigging dramatic," he held out his arm and pulled him close, "Better?"

"Little bit."

Michael looked down at hime and smirked, "A blowjob might warm you up."

Pete laughed, "Me giving you one? Or you giving me one?"

"Why not both?" Michael leant down and kissed Pete softly, his tongue sliding across Petes' bottom lip, asking to be let in. Pete opened his mouth slightly, allowing entry, and let their tongues fuck each other, setting the mood.

"Oh fuck, Michael." Pete pulled Michael on top of him, kissing him roughly and Michael began unbuttoning Petes' jeans.

They rolled around on the bed for a while, exploring each other when Michael stopped kissing Pete.

"Time to warm you up..." he smirked, and Pete giggled softly as Michael kissed down his stomach towards his penis.

Pete moaned as he felt Michaels' mouth swallow his member, and Michael softly sucked.

"Oh god, Michael.. ah...", he pinched the sheets and threw his head back in pleasure, enjoying the sensation Michael was giving him.

It didn't take long for Pete to get close and he pulled at Michaels hair, his fingers getting lost in his messy curls. "M-Michael.. ah... I-I'm so close!"

Michael smirked and sucked harder, and faster, waiting for Pete to unload. He heard Pete gasp into a climax and he swallowed every bit of his cum, enjoying the taste. Michael licked his lips and lay back down, next to Pete. "Warm now?"

Pete panted and stared at the ceiling, "Definitely."

* * *

"So, we're meeting them at Henriettas?" Pete was in front of Michaels' mirror doing his eyeliner.

Michael was doing his hair, standing behind him. "Yeah, lucky she only lives across the street."

Pete and Michael had been lazing around all morning after Michael had fun with Pete. They spent most of their time making fun of old sitcoms.

After lunch Michael had gotten a text from Henrietta, saying that 'the boys should come over to kill her boredom'. It meant having to get ready, but they didn't mind.

Pete turned around and looked at Michael, "Look okay?"

Michael smiled and rolled his eyes, "Perfectionist, it looks fine. Hurry up!"

"It takes time to look this good, Michael."

Michael chuckled and put on his snow jacket, "There better be hot coffee when we get there. Across the street, or not, it's still fucking cold."

Pete stood up and put his eyeliner away in his school bag. He put his jacket on and Michael lead the way down the stairs.

"And where the hell are you going in this weather?"

The boys jumped at the voice and turned around. It was Michaels dad.

Pete never felt comfortable around his father, he was always stern looking and treated Michael like shit.

"To Henriettas, Dad." Michael sighed and anxiously chewed on his thumb nail.

"Did he stay the night?" his father gestured at Pete and frowned, looking him up and down.

Michael nodded, "Yeah, he was tired and sort of just crashed here."

"He's a fag though, right?"

Pete raised an eyebrow at the men and frowned. What did that matter?

"He's gay, yeah. Why?" Michael looked over at Pete and back at his father frowning.

His father glared, "You're not a fag are you? Are you sleeping together?"

Michael sighed and massaged his temple, "Dad, not right now. Henrietta is waiting for us." He opened the front door, Pete following behind and as he shut it after them, they could here Michaels father growling is anger.

Pete walked beside Michael and kept his head facing down, "Your dad seems pretty pissed that I stayed."

"He always is," Michael lit up a cigarette as they started crossing the road. The snow was falling heavy and it took a few tries to get it to light.

"Then, why let me stay? Why risk it?"

Michael shrugged, "I don't know. I'm gay. Eventually he's going to have to deal with that."

They reached Henriettas house and knocked on her door. Henrietta answered and smiled. "Thank god! Come in, its fucking freezing."

They followed her upstairs, a routine they've grown up doing and they entered her room where Firkle was sitting on her bed writing in his poetry journal.

Firkle had matured a lot over the years. He had his hair styled in a way where his fringe was always in his eyes. Not like Petes though, thicker and not on just one side. His lips where pierced with snake bites and he had a stretcher in his left ear. Firkle complained a lot about girls liking him at school, talking about wanting to 'fix a tortured soul'.

"Hey Firkle," Pete said, sitting down in his usual spot against Henriettas bed on the floor.

"Hey."

Michael sat next to Pete and Henrietta sat across from them, handing them some fresh coffee she had just prepared.

"So..." She lit a smoke and exhaled slowly. "What do you wanna do?"

* * *

 **A/N: So... Yeah... I've never really written a story with THAT type of sex, so... sorry.**

 **Please leave a review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hey guys! So I uploaded this on my smartphone, and so I apologise if the format is slightly off :/**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own South Park. The delightful Matt and Trey, do!**

* * *

"So, what have you two been up to today?"

Henrietta leant her head back and exhaled, her hands behind her back supporting her as she leant back.

"Not much", Pete said, flipping through a magazine, "Just hung out."

Henrietta smirked and looked up at Firkle on the bed. "So in other words, they fucked."

Firkle snickered, whilst Michael rolled his eyes.

"Real mature."

They sat in silence, as The Cure blasted from Henriettas' speakers. They often found themselves feeling content by just being together. Some nights they'd sit like this until all four of them fell asleep.

Michaels phone buzzed, and he pulled it out of his pocket. "Fuck." he sighed as he read the text. "One of the waiters is sick, so my boss wants me to work the dinner shift."

"That suuuuucks!" Henrietta groaned.

"Yeah, well, I better go. See ya guys."

They all waved goodbye, unimpressed, as he walked out of the room.

"Soooooo," Henrietta sang, "How was your night with Michael, Pete?"

Pete looked up from the magazine and tried to hide a smile. "Aw shut up Henri, he just bought me dinner because I didn't have any money."

Firkle slid down off the bed and sat crossed legged next to Pete. "Does he know how you feel about him?"

Pete shrugged. "I think he does, but he doesn't want a relationship."

"Doesn't that, like, suck though?" Henrietta frowned. "Like, sure a nice fuck is great and all, but when there's feelings involved..."

Pete sighed. "Yeah, he's offered to stop so I won't get hurt, but I just don't want to."

Henrietta watched her friend carefully. He looked pretty down about the whole thing, and she frowned sadly.

"You love him, don't you?"

Pete looked up in shock, and Firkle turned to look at him, also in shock.

"I... I..." He stuttered.

"You do, don't you, Pete?"

Pete stared behind Henrietta in thought. He knew he had strong feelings for Michael. He knew that when Michael touched him he got goosebumps. He knew that when he was depressed he wanted Michael. Was that love?

"Y-yeah, I do."

Henrietta gasped and Firkles' mouth fell open in surprise.

"Pete, you should really tell him. He needs to know that whatever you're feeling, isn't just some crush!"

Pete lit up a cigarette and inhaled deeply. He always smoked more when he was stressed, or upset.

"I just can't, I'm afraid I'll ruin what we have."

"Yeah but Pete," Firkle said, putting his arm around his shoulder. "You really can't keep doing this with him, if it's only going to hurt you, and if the feelings you have are going to get stronger."

"That's right!" Henrietta pointed at Firkle in agreement, "That's fucking right."

Pete closed his eyes and took another drag of his cigarette. "But what if I ruin things with him completely?"

"Michael's not like that, he's a good guy." Henrietta smiled softly. "He'd understand, he wouldn't want to hurt you."

Pete sighed. "I guess you're right."

* * *

Michael groaned as he pulled up at work. He was looking forward to a night off with his friends. He liked work, the money was great, but with twelfth grade proving itself to be challenging, work was getting tough.

He walked into the restaurant, the smell of the salad bar hitting him instantly. His boss spotted him and waved him into the back.

Michael obeyed and followed his boss into the staff room.

"Hey Michael, thanks for coming in, you saved my ass. Saturday nights are usually really busy as you know, and losing just one waiter can really suck."

Michael shrugged. "No problem, sir. Hey, I wonder if I have a moment of your time before it starts getting busy?"

His boss took a seat at the staff table and smiled. "Sure, sit down."

Michael sat down and pulled on his work shirt. "I have a friend, he's a year younger than me..." He began buttoning his shirt up and looking up at his boss. "He lives in the trailer park, and often struggles just to get food in his stomach, since his Mom has trouble keeping a job."

His boss frowned. "Doesn't sound like much of a parent."

"Yeah, she has a lot of problems I won't get into." He sighed sadly. "Anyway, would you consider taking him in as a dish washer or something? He's a good guy, and has been desperate to find work. I promised I'd ask."

His boss tapped his fingers on the table and shrugged. "I'd be happy to set up an interview for him. You tell him tomorrow at 10am, okay?"

Michael beamed. "Thank you, sir! I really appreciate you giving him a chance like this."

His boss smiled warmly. "Everyone deserves a chance, besides, I trust your opinion on people."

Michael laughed. Him and his boss got along very well. It was hard for him to trust people, but they just clicked.

"Well, I better clock on. Thanks again, sir."

"Anytime, Michael."

* * *

Henrietta, Pete and Firkle decided to go to sizzler for dinner, just so they could see Michael. They ordered a salad bar each, and were waiting to be seated.

"It's fucking busy tonight." Henrietta looked around at the crowd.

"Yeah, no wonder Michael was asked to come in," Firkle agreed.

Michael had finished wiping down a booth when he was told to serve the next in line. He walked to the group and smiled, noticing it was his friends.

"Hi there, welcome to sizzler, I'm Michael. Would you follow me to your table?"

Henrietta laughed. "Hey Michael, we thought we'd come annoy you at work.

He lead them to a booth and handed them their plates and cups. "I figured that's why you were here."

Pete looked at Henrietta and bit his lip anxiously. Henrietta responded with a small smile and nodded towards Michael.

"Hey, uh Michael. Can we talk when you're on your break?"

Michael looked at Pete and nodded. "Yeah, sure. I have something to tell you anyway. Enjoy the salad bar guys."

He rushed off to the next group and Pete groaned. "I'm terrified! Is his work really the best place to tell him?"

Henrietta shrugged. "It might be less awkward in a loud environment."

Pete sighed and stood up. "Let's go get our food."

* * *

The group were beginning on their third helping of food when Michael came over and sat down. He was sweaty, and looked exhausted, which wasn't surprising considering how busy it was.

"Hey, I'm on break."

Pete felt his stomach turn, and he tried to keep himself from having a panic attack.

"Oh my god Michael, I don't care how much more weight I put on, the food here is actually really good!" Henrietta took another mouthful of pasta and moaned.

Michael smiled slightly and turned to Pete. "Hey, you wanted to talk to me?"

Firkle and Henrietta shared nervous glances and continued to eat, looking out the window.

"Y-yeah, uh. I needed to tell you something." Pete looked down at his plate and played with his food with his fork.

Michael frowned. "Well, I have something to tell you, too. May I go first?"

Pete looked up and nodded his head.

"Okay, well, I spoke to my boss, about potentially getting you a job here..."

Petes eyes widened. "And?!"

Michael smiled slightly. "I got you an interview, 10am tomorrow."

Pete gasped and covered his mouth. His eyes filled with tears. "Thank you so much!"

"It was no problem, he was more than happy to do it."

"Oh god, can I hug you, Michael?!"

Michael chuckled and stood up. "Yeah, sure, I suppose so."

Pete stood up and practically jumped on Michael. He was so grateful for this, and was so touched that Michael actually did it. He knew he would, but he didn't expect it to happen so fast.

Michael broke the hug and sat back down.

"What was it that you wanted to tell me?"

Henrietta and Firkle looked at Pete, who bit his lip. "Oh uh, never mind. It doesn't matter."

Michael shrugged and pulled out his phone. "I better get back to work. See ya when I got off."

Once he was gone, Henrietta threw a sugar packet at Pete which made him jump. "What the fuck, Hen?"

"Why didn't you tell him?" She frowned.

"I couldn't! He got me a frigging interview!"

Firkle sipped at his coffee. "You're going to have to tell him, dude."

Pete sighed. "I will. Just not yet."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Here's the next chapter! Hope you guys like it. I'm really grateful to those who have added this story to their favourites! Thank you!**

 **Dislaimer: I do not own South Park, sadly.**

* * *

Michael pulled on his jacket and picked up his keys and cell phone from the staff table.

"Thanks again for tonight, Michael. You really helped out."

Michael shrugged and placed his phone into his pocket. "It was no problem, sir."

His boss walked him out of the room and into the front of the restaurant. He pointed at the group of goths standing outside.

"So, are they your friends?"

Michael looked out the window and smiled slightly. He didn't realise they were still here.

"Yeah, they must of waited for me to finish." He chuckled. "Or they just wanted a lift home."

His boss laughed. "Yeah, probably wanting a lift." He turned off the lights and walked outside with Michael.

"Hey guys, you waited for me?"

Henrietta handed Michael a cigarette and smirked. "Nuh, just wanting a lift."

Michael turned to his boss and rolled his eyes. "Knew it." He turned back to his friends and gestured to Pete. "Oh, sir, this is Pete."

Pete smiled slightly, looking anxious and waved. "Hey."

"Hi there, I look forward to your interview tomorrow. I better go, see ya Michael." He waved and got into his car, and drove off.

Michael turned to his friends and lit his cigarette. "So, a lift huh? I could easily say no."

Henrietta pouted. "You wouldn't do that to us."

They all chuckled and Michael leant against the brick wall of the restaurant and stared up at the stars.

"I'm really fucking nervous about tomorrow," Pete said, "I might just puke."

"You'll be fine," Michael exhaled the much needed nicotine and turned his head to face him, "I can drive you and wait for you out here, if you like?"

Pete smiled. "Yeah, that would be cool, thanks."

Michael shrugged, and Henrietta smirked. "Hurry up and finish your smoke, it's freezing."

"Patience Henri, patience." Pete chuckled.

Henrietta smiled, and nudged his shoulder. "Oh fuck off, Pete."

* * *

In the car Michael had Bauhaus playing quietly as he drove his friends towards Henriettas'. "So, why don't you just take your Moms car?"

Henrietta groaned. "My Dad's been really strict about that. I've tried, but he hides the keys. I could hotwire it, but he said he'd call the cops."

"Laaame." Firkle whined.

Henrietta sighed. "Yeah. I need to get my own car. I just suck at saving."

Michael pulled up at Henriettas. "Is Firkle staying with you, or do I have to drive him home?"

"No, I'm staying. Thanks Michael." Firkle got out with Henrietta and they waved as Michael pulled into his garage across the street.

"Since I'm driving you tomorrow to your interview, you can stay here again."

Pete smiled slightly and followed him inside. "Are you sure your dad won't be pissed?"

Michael shrugged. "Fuck him."

They walked upstairs to his bedroom and Michael closed his door, threw his keys on his desk, and took off his jacket. He sighed and fell backwards into his bed and stared up at his ceiling.

Pete watched him, and sat beside him. "You look done with the day."

Michael turned to face him and blew his fridge out of his eyes. "Pretty much. My back is killing me."

Pete bit his lip. "Maybe have a warm shower?"

"No, my dad will wake up and scream at me for making too much noise." He frowned.

Pete rolled his eyes. "He's a douche. What about a... a massage?"

Michael raised an eyebrow and sat up. "Uh, getting a bit lemon, aren't we?"

Pete shrugged. "No, just, it might help."

Michael stared at him for a few seconds, as if he was studying Pete. "Uh, what the hell? Sure, go ahead."

Petes' heart almost stopped. "O-okay."

"Should I take my shirt off?" Michael asked and smiled slightly.

"Y-yeah, go ahead." Pete gulped as he watched Michael remove his shirt. He was so sexy, even if he didn't see it. He tried to keep it together as he removed his shoes and sat on his knees. "Okay, uh, l-lay down on your stomach."

Michael obeyed and Pete bit his lip as he brought his shaky hands to Michaels skin. He felt so warm and Pete smiled at the comforting feeling. He rubbed gently around his shoulder, and Michael relaxed.

"Feels nice."

"G-great."

Pete pinched slightly, and pushed a little harder. He then glided his hands down his back and back up, gaining a rhythm.

Michael moaned softly at Petes' touch, and closed his eyes. It felt fantastic! He never realised how soft Petes' hands were.

Pete held his breath each time Michael moaned. Hesitant at first, Pete slowly sat on Michael, straddling him. With no objection from Michael, Pete continued to expertly rub his shoulders, building the pressure ever so slightly.

Michael melted into his pillow, and gasped at every good feeling Pete was creating. He could feel himself slowly getting turned on, and if he weren't mistaken, he could feel that Pete was, too.

Pete bit his lip, and leant down. He kissed Michaels' neck and Michael replied with a satisfied moan. "Pete...", he whispered softly, and turned his head to kiss his lips.

It didn't take long for the kiss to grow hungry with passion, and Michael had thrown Pete off of him and had him lying beside him. Michael trailed down Petes' neck with hungry kisses, and Pete threw his head back in response.

"Michael!" Pete called out as Michael ripped his shirt off and sucked on his left nipple. He ran his fingers down Michaels back making Michael shutter.

After an intense make out session, and many love bites later, Michael lay on top of Pete, both completely naked and hungry with desire.

Pete ran his fingers through Michaels' curls and Michael pushed himself inside of Pete, causing them both to gasp.

Sweat poured out of each of them, as their bodies rocked together in rhythm. Gasps and moans were heard, but only by each other, careful as not to wake Michaels' parents.

The room heated up, and Pete clawed at Michaels' back, trying hard not to scream out.

"Michael!"

"Pete!"

"Michael!"

"Pete!"

And with one last thrust, muffled screams filled the bedroom, as both boys reached climax, biting down on each others shoulders. Michael filled Pete, and Pete made a mess on Michaels stomach, as they both collapsed in an embrace.

Panting and sticky, Michael rolled off of Pete and wiped his fridge out of his face.

Pete relaxed, still panting and turned his head to face Michael.

"Are you okay?"

Michael smirked and turned to face Pete. "Yeah, you?"

"I'm feeling pretty fucking fantastic."

Michael chuckled and slowed down his breathing. "Yeah, that back rub sure felt great."

The two laughed together and Pete punched his arm playfully. "You're such a dork, Michael."

Michael shrugged. "You love it."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Fuck, I'm so sorry it's been a while. I have had writers block for this chapter for a while now. I'm not so good at this kind of "sex scene" writing. So (TMI Warning) I just tried to picture what it was like when my partner and I make love...**

 **Dislaimer: I don't own South Park, etc.**

* * *

Michael sat staring at the wall in front of him, something he often did.

"I still can't believe your manager liked me!" Pete was taking off his boots and throwing his bag down by Michaels wardrobe.

Michael smiled softly, still staring. "I knew he would."

Pete laughed and sat beside Michael. "Yeah, so you've said. But seriously, thank you."

Michael turned to face Pete and shrugged. "It was really fine, dude."

Pete shook his head. "No, seriously, I don't think you realise how incredibly thankful I am. This is really going to help me and my Mom."

Michael smiled slightly. "Honestly, Pete. I did it for that reason. I'd be a shitty friend if I knew of a job opening and didn't tell you."

Pete lifted his hand to Michaels cheek which took Michael by surprise, and he flinched. "Just, thank you, Michael."

Pete leaned in, and softly kissed Michael. The kiss was so gentle, and nothing like before. Michael frowned, but let his eyes slowly shut, and kissed back, letting Pete keep the slow pace.

The kiss didn't break, it just grew more passionate, and Michael had no idea why. Pete softly pushed Michael down onto his bed, and straddled him, still kissing him. Michael moved his hands to rest on Petes' hips, still not sure what was happening. It never felt this way before.

"I know this feels weird, Michael, but I really need to do this with you?" Pete kissed down Michael's neck, the kisses so gentle, they made Michael shiver.

"Do what exactly?" Michael relaxed into his bed, gasping softly at the feeling of Petes lips.

"I don't exactly know what IT is, but, I need it."

Pete ran his hands over Michael's chest, after slipping them under his shirt. Michael bit his lip at the sensation, and while shaking, he ran his hands through Petes hair. This was new to him, they'd had sex before, many times, but this was very different to how they usually did it.

Pete loved the feeling of Michael running his hands through his hair, and he moaned softly into Michael's neck as he continued to kiss him. He slipped his hands down to the bottom of Michael's shirt and pulled it up. Michael got the hint and pulled his shirt off completely.

Pete sighed in content and ran his fingers softly down his stomach, which made Michael shiver again. He kissed lightly around Michael's nipples, which made Michael moan into a gasp.

He threw his head back, as Pete glided his tongue around his nipples, then back up to his neck, and then his lips. Michael kissed back, the kiss so passionate, and not sloppy like usual. It didn't feel so desperate and hungry, just slow, and in what felt like a rhythm. As they kissed, both of their bodies rocked softly, confirming the kiss to be in rhythm.

Pete pulled on Michael's shoulders, flipping them over so that Michael was on top and Pete was underneath him. The kiss never broke though, and neither did the rocking, as Pete ran his fingers through Michael's curls.

Soft moans escaped both boys, as the kiss grew, and Michael ran his hands all over Pete. Pete wanted to rock skin to skin, and so he removed his shirt expertly, throwing it on the floor along with Michael's discarded shirt.

As they rocked together, Michael could feel their erections both rubbing together through each others boxer shorts. It felt really good and Michael had a hard time keeping quiet.

Pete could see the expression on Michael's face, confirming that it was time to move further before both boys lost it.

"Take them off, Michael," he whispered, and Michael nodded. He slipped his hands down removing his own first, and then Petes.

Both of them were dripping with pre cum, and the intensity of the feeling as both erections met skin to skin made them both moan out.

"I need you, I really need you, Michael."

Michael wasn't sure what was happening, and if this was normal, but he felt similar to Pete. He felt as if he needed him, too, and not in a 'I need to fuck you' kind of way.

Michael spread Petes legs, and positioned himself at his entrance, he didn't need to get Pete ready, because as soon as he entered he slipped right in with ease.

Pete moaned into Michael's chest at the feeling of Michael inside of him, and his kissed his shoulders, just so that he wouldn't make too much noise.

With the feeling of himself inside of Pete, and the kisses on his shoulders, along with Petes moans, Michael felt in complete ecstasy. He softly pulled in and out of Pete, keeping a slow rhythmic pace.

It was dark in the room, but both boys could make out only each other. As they rocked, their eyes met, and it was hard to look away. Pete wrapped his arms around Michael's neck and pulled him forward gently, so that he could kiss him. Michael let him, and kissed back with just as much passion as Pete.

When it felt too good to kiss, Michael rested his forehead on Petes, remaining as close to Pete as he could. They both were dripping with sweat by this time, and both bodies rocked with more force and with a faster pace.

It had been a while since they started, and Michael knew that this would have to be the longest time they'd done this. Pete moaned as the feeling intensified, and Michael moaned in return to confirm that he too was feeling incredible.

"Michael..." Pete whispered, and Michael replied by kissing his forehead. Pete didn't want to let go of Michael, and kept him close, gasping at every movement.

Michael could feel himself heat up, and he could feel that Pete was, too.

"Are you close?" he whispered right into his ear.

"Yes, god yes," was all Pete could answer.

Michael fasted the pace, and Pete kept in rhythm with him, as if they were dancing together. Michael could feel himself getting ready to explode and he bit his lip as he began to pump even faster.

Pete ran his hands through Michael's hair, and then down his cheek. He wanted to say it, he desperately wanted to say those three words, but he knew if he did, he'd most likely ruin this perfect moment.

Michael took Petes hands, and entwined their fingers above Petes head, resting on the pillow. He'd never held Petes hands before, and Pete melted at the sensation.

Michael once again rested his forehead on Petes, as the climax grew closer and closer. With a few more thrusts Michael moaned loudly, as he filled Pete with his seed. He'd never had an orgasm this incredible before.

Pete gasped as he felt Michael fill him, and that made him explode all over Michael, moaning deeply as the enormous orgasm went through his entire body.

Michael continued to moan, only softly this time, as he made sure to completely empty himself into Pete, the thrusts getting slower, and less harder. He fell onto Pete, being sure to keep his weight off of him though, and breathed heavily.

His forehead was still resting on Pete, as both of them tried to gain control of their breathing. Both boys were sweating, and their hair dripped slightly.

Pete hesitantly cupped Michaels cheek, waiting for a sign that it was okay. Michael didn't flinch, or move his face away, so Pete kept it there, stroking his cheek with his thumb.

"Are you okay?" he whispered, and Michael nodded softly.

"Yes, are you?" Pete smiled and nodded back. "Just very exhausted."

Michael smiled slightly and rolled off of Pete. His body felt heavy, and he was still trying to gain back his usual breathing pattern.

Pete turned to his side, to stare at Michael. His curly hair was sticking to his forehead from the sweat, he could see his skin glistening, and his chest moving up and down slightly faster than usual. He rested his hand on Michael's chest, and could feel his heart beating quickly.

Michael turned his head to face Pete, and rested his hand on top of Petes hand. He had no clue what was happening between the two, but he wasn't hating it, it just confused him.

"Do you want to sleep?"

Pete barely managed a nod, as his eyes felt heavy. Michael smiled softly, and sat up to pull the covers on them. Usually by now they'd put their clothes back on, but Michael had a feeling they'd both not be able to manage it. He tucked Pete in, knowing too well that Pete felt the cold more that he did, and then dragged the blanket over himself.

He lay in silence for a while, staring at his ceiling. He had managed to gain control of his breathing, and his eyes were getting really heavy.

He wasn't sure what to think of the events that played out tonight, but he thought it was something he would talk about with Pete tomorrow.

He let his eyes close, and it didn't take long for him to join Pete in sleep.


End file.
